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Main Sim - Bridge

Posted March 2, 2021, 4:28 p.m. by Captain Willow Taylor (Commanding Officer) (Calé Reilly)

Posted by Gamemaster Wombat (Gamemaster) in Main Sim - Bridge

Posted by Captain Willow Taylor (Commanding Officer) in Main Sim - Bridge

Posted by Gamemaster Wombat (Gamemaster) in Main Sim - Bridge
Posted by… suppressed (2) by the Post Ghost! 👻
NE MacGuffin was in awe at the new communications display on the brand new, recommissioned Ogawa. Her hands ran over the controls with the fondness of a new mother or a child with a new teddy bear. However, it was only a few moments later when the alert popped up. Tapping it she squinted before looking back up to whoever had the con. “It seems we have a priority message from one Admiral Maxwell Jackson with the… this is odd. Federation Office of Communications?” She looked back down then back up, “The PR department wants a word with the Captain.”

GM Wombat

Willow stood, new uniform crisp and polished boots, her red hair pulled back into a pony tail. Her position was slightly off from the Center of the bridge, her hands on her hips. This was a position she had stood at a few times since coming onboard. From it she could survey the bridge and see it all. A much better vantage point than her chair. She glanced at the chair now and felt the corner of her mouth turn up at the ornate crown that sat on its back.

Hearing the discussion Willow turned her attention to communications. “Problem ensign?” She asked as she approached.

Willow Taylor
CO

“No, no, Ma’am. Call for you from Admiral Jackson. Shall I patch it through here or to your Ready Room?” the ensign asked slightly nervous.

GM Wombat

Willow considered.”my ready room please Ensign.” She said and put her hand on his shoulder in a reassuring sort of way before moving to her office space.

She sat down in front of the terminal and straightened both her uniform then her hair and waited for the massage to come through.

“Yes Admiral, what can I help you with?” She asked when it did

Willow Taylor
CO

The man looked more than a little frazzled with messy brown hair, starting to show hints of grey streaks. “Captain. Are you enjoying the new ship?” he asked politely with a worn smile. “I hope you like it. Listen the top brass they are… well..” He coughed into his hand nervously before looking back up to the camera.

Shifting uncomfortably he continued, “Admiral Breckenridge and Commodore T’Prill from central command don’t see the need for a new medical class ship, frankly. The believe the effort should have been allocated to some heavy cruiser or some such thing. Light frigate, I am not sure. I don’t do boom boom time.” This last part was said with a roll of his brown eyes, “Anyway, Rear Admiral Leondra from Research feels a deep space research station would have been a better use of resources so. Here we are.” He motioned to the screen, “Or rather here I am. And you are. We are going to sell the senior staff on the Nightingale. We already have footage and recordings of the McCoy class in action but as the first Nightingale we are going to need to see some… Action to sell our case. In oh, about ten minutes, your ship will be receiving a documentary crew. They will tag along on this your first mission which is just a medical relief situation. They are going to watch every thing you do, make it spicy. I promise they won’t get in your way. Any questions I can clear up?”

GM Wombat

GM Wombat

Willow blinked. Twice. The silence stretching just that little bit too far from comfortable processing time to awkward. She held up a hand. “Forgive me, sir. You are telling me the ship spec they have been designing for over three years is now considered to have been a waste of resources and to prove it’s worth, the worth of my crew I’m to allow a documentary crew onboard. And make it ‘spicy’?” She felt the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. What did that even mean!?

“With all due respect sir, This isn’t a medical drama in space this is a functioning ship. I mean…the crew are just finding their feet in an entirely new environment hell some of this crew only arrived yesterday afternoon and haven’t even met one another yet. What am I supposed to tell them? Act like Patch Adams?”

She sat back in her chair and looked at him imploringly. As if she could make him see sense.

Willow Taylor
CO


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